


forbidden

by boxofroses



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, bad clue!au, conflicting feelings from jun, implied sleep disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27590837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofroses/pseuds/boxofroses
Summary: Junhui knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He knows from the first time that this was a mistake.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114





	forbidden

**Author's Note:**

> i know im so so so late to the bad clue!au but this has been sitting in my drafts since the ep first dropped and i just, whew. i had to. please heed the tags since it mentions about park junki and park mingyu's trauma and sleep disorder. 
> 
> i also altered the ages here since i wasn't keen on 60 year old butler jun haha. he's around 28-29 in this while park mingyu stays 20-21
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

Junhui knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He knows from the first time that this was a mistake, a pretty grave one even. It had been a moment of weakness on his own careless behalf. He knows nothing good will ever come out of this except the feeling of momentary bliss. He hates it—hates how much he loves it deep down underneath his façade.

“You’ve been summoned by the young master, Mr. Wen,” came the message from one of the maids who timidly peeks her head through the crack of his bedroom door, interrupting Junhui amidst his late night read. “He says it’s an urgent matter.”

He sighs while looking up, finger stopping at the end of the passage that he had been reading and slips the bookmark back in place. The maid by his door only smiles at him sympathetically. _Of course it’s an emergency_ , he thinks. _It always is_.

“Thank you for the message, Ms. Kang,” Junhui replies with a faint smile. “I’ll attend to the young master shortly.”

He knows that the Park family’s young master had always been a little peculiar when it came to Junhui. Everyone living in the Park family estate did—it wasn’t a secret anymore and it had been blatantly obvious since the first day Junhui was brought in to serve for the Park family. Even Chairman Park had once lightly commented on the young master’s affection and attachment towards Junhui.

At that time, he could only smile and nod, vowing to himself and the Chairman that it was an honour for him to care for the young master in return for all of the kindness and generosity that the Park family has given towards him and his family.

He reaches the young master’s bedroom in no time, feeling a little cold from the late September air when he had to walk through the courtyard to reach the main family’s compound from the house staff’s quarters.

“Young master,” he calls while knocking on the dark teakwood doors. “You called for me?”

No response. 

“Young master,” he calls again, this time while opening the door and entering.

He didn’t have a chance to turn around after closing the door behind him when he’s suddenly pressed up against the wooden doors, brass handles digging into his sides as a large presence crowds his space.

“What took you so long, Junhui-hyung?” a low voice beckons at him. “Don’t you know how much I missed you today?”

“Young master, you shouldn’t call me that,” Junhui gulps, a shiver runs down his spine when he feels hot breath tickling against his neck and a pair of lips that hover only millimetres away from his skin. “It’s inappropriate.”

The young master chuckles, pressing himself against Junhui even more. “You know what’s inappropriate?” he gently nips at the shell of Junhui’s ear. “What we did last night,” and could practically hear the grin in his voice. “I believe I was promised a continuation if I was a good boy today and attended the gala with my grandfather.”

“W-we really shouldn’t,” he hesitates, hands going to grab for the door handle. But the young master had been quicker, snatching Junhui’s wrist and holds it up above his head—grip tight enough to bruise. 

“I know you want this as much as I do, hyung,” he growls in Junhui’s ear. “You’ve been saying this is a mistake since the first time we slept together.” His breath hitches when the young master licks a stripe up the column of his neck. “Yet you still come every time I call for you.”

_Because it’s my job_ , Junhui screams inside his head, trying to fight back a whimper as he feels a hardened cock rub against the cleft of his ass. _It’s my job to serve you, Mingyu._

The young master had been right. Junhui enjoyed this as much as he did. He enjoyed the feeling of being held close against a firm chest. He enjoyed the feeling of being embraced in big strong arms. He enjoyed the feeling of being kissed so deeply he felt drunk off the taste that lingered on his lips. And worst of all, he enjoyed the feeling of being fucked so wildly against silk sheets until the only thing he can chant is Mingyu, Mingyu, and Mingyu over and over again as he comes. Yet it still didn’t change the fact that he absolutely hated himself for it—loathe himself even.

There’s a shame and disgust that he feels with himself whenever he lets the young master strip him of his clothes, looking at him with hungry eyes as he devours the view of Junhui bare before him. He hates it. But he also craves it, sickened with how much his body _needs_ Mingyu— _wants_ Mingyu too. They’re too far deep into this twisted, hidden affair to properly back out now.

“You’re not putting up a fight anymore?” the young master smirks as he loosened the grip around Junhui’s wrist. “That’s a good boy.”

_Good boy_ , the nickname repeats itself in his mind almost venomously. That had been Chairman Park’s nickname for him and his father’s as well. To have it come out of Mingyu’s mouth made him feel like he’s on fire. 

“What did you need me for, young master?” Junhui asks after finally recomposing himself enough. He didn’t know why he even bothered asking. He knew the answer already from the deep chuckle that slips out of Mingyu’s mouth and the hand that slips underneath his shirt.

\--

He’s on cloud nine. _Feels_ like he’s on cloud nine, at least. Fucked out of his mind with Mingyu’s hands gripping his hips so hard it bruises.

“Always so fucking tight for me,” the young master growls with each sharp thrust into him. Junhui couldn’t say anything—doesn’t feel like saying anything as well. Only lays there helpless, letting Mingyu use his body like his own personal fuck toy as he chases his orgasm.

Mingyu is big. So so big. It stretches him whole and fills him up to the brim. That’s how Junhui likes to feel—full as Mingyu thrusts deep and hard inside of him, head of his cock grazing deliciously against his prostate over and over again.

“Mingyu,” Junhui finally lets out a shaky moan into the bedsheets below. Mingyu tells him to not bother being quiet, to not hold back, to let the others know how good he can take the young master’s cock. The estate was big enough that Chairman Park would never ever hear the filthy moans of Junhui as his darling of a grandson presses him hard against his mattress anyway.

The executive secretary knows—Secretary Chwe—the look that he gives Junhui whenever Chairman Park summons him while Mingyu is also present in the room. It’s the same look that almost everyone gives Junhui whenever he drags himself back to the servant’s quarters, trying to act as decent and upright as possible, all the while ignoring the feeling of Mingyu’s cum that was dribbling down the inside of his thighs.

It’s been years since the death of Park Junki, as Junhui’s father also told him when he was first brought into the Park estate. And Mingyu had suffered—their whole family did. But Mingyu had been there to watch it all at the small age of five where he knew nothing better than playing outside in the freshly mowed grass.

In his sleep, Mingyu would find him, cry for him, scream, Junhui couldn’t tell anymore. All of it too painful and numb whenever he’s rushed out of bed in the middle of the night to hold a shaking Mingyu in his arms, stroking his hair ‘til he calms down and waits for Doctor Jeon to arrive in the early morning to check-up on the young master.

And that had been the start of this. In the guise of Junhui providing comfort, he felt gravely, sickly and awfully wrong when matters took a less innocent turn.

It starts with a kiss.

_“Junhui-hyung, fuck,”_

And ends with Junhui’s clothes on the floor next to Mingyu’s.

_“Mingyu, Mingyu, harder,”_

It’s a cycle that Junhui doesn’t know how to end. Nor does he want it to continue. He’s come to terms that all of this is done out of the best interest of Mingyu’s well-being and that he made a promise to Chairman Park that he’ll take care of his grandson for all it’s worth.

It hurts the most when Mingyu pulls him into his arms afterwards, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Junhui’s nape and breathes in the older man’s scent.

“Sleep with me in here tonight,” Mingyu will say, already halfway lulling into sleep.

_I can’t_ , Junhui wants to say, but the words die in his mouth when he hears Mingyu sigh into the embrace. So warm, so strong, so comforting. Junhui tries to not get lost in the feeling of Mingyu’s arms wrapped around him so securely—as if Junhui is so dear to him, so precious. It hurts.

He hates himself the most when he forgets that this is just his job.


End file.
